The DiNozzo Life
by LillixRose
Summary: "What's sex Mommy?" A humourus peek into the lives of Kate and Tony. I always knew life the DiNozzo way was never going to be easy. Or even normal. With 4 kids and a dog, it's one crazy thing after another. And I love it!
1. Of Kids And Sex

**"The voice of parents is the voice of gods, for to their children they are heaven's lieutenants."**  
**-Shakespeare**

_If someone had told me nine years ago that my life was going to be where it is now, I would have laughed in their face._

_But the truth is that just when you think you have your life all figured out, something changes. Just one little thing, and suddenly you are thrown back into the chaotic turmoil of living._

_Except, in my case, it wasn't a little thing. It was a big thing. It was more like being hit by a truck. Actually, it was Tony nearly dying, but it still hurt like hell._

_Up until then he was just Tony. Flirtatious, immature, pain-in-the-ass DiNozzo. But coming that close to losing him? Well, let's just say death is a funny thing. The idea that someone who has become such an irreplaceable part of your life can just disappear, just go forever..._

_The realization that if they die, there's no going back, no second chances; it's enough to make anyone realize what their heart has been telling them all along. It's just sad that it takes so much to make people see._

_Our first date came two weeks later in a small café in downtown Washington. It was…perfect. I can still hear the music playing in the background, the clink of wine glasses, the quiet murmur of conversation._

_If I concentrate properly, I can feel the warmth of Tony's hand on mine, the brush of his lips as we kiss for the first time, and the look on his face over the flickering candles as we break apart. I think that was the first time I realized that I really loved him._

_Because that's what it was. Simple, uncomplicated, straightforward love._

_Fast-forward nine years. One wedding and four pregnancies later, we are our own little family. Life isn't perfect. In fact, most of the time it's complete chaos._

_But we're happy, and I wouldn't have it any other way._

Smiling slightly, I watch Mia stir the cake mixture round the bowl with a wooden spoon. Flour is in her brown curls, over her face and more of the mixture seems to be on the floor or round her mouth than in the bowl.

It's hard to imagine anything messier than baking a cake with an excitable six-year-old.

I watch as she spoons up the mixture and, poking her tongue out with concentration, and places it in the cake cases.

"All done, Mommy," she announces proudly, as she finishes her last one, "Now can I ice them? I want to use the sprinkles we got, and the sugar flowers and the Jelly Tots and the sparkly balls and…"

I laugh at her eagerness and move forward to take the tray of fairy cupcakes, "Sure we can." I say "But after they're cooked, right?"

"Of course, silly" she says, rolling her eyes at me "They wouldn't taste nice if they weren't cooked, would they?"

I look at her, in amazement.

"Did you really just roll your eyes at me? How old are you again?"

"Seven" she says proudly

"It was a rhetorical question," I inform her, "And actually you're not 7 for another three months"

"What_ever_" she pouts, sulkily, with an amazing amount of attitude for a 6 year old.

"Sometimes," I tell her, "you are just so much like your father"

I open the oven and slide the tray in, securing the oven door when I'm done. When I turn back, Mia has disappeared, but I can hear her footsteps running down the garden path, and then her laughter mixed with Lynette's coming from the garden.

I survey the messy kitchen. It looks like a disaster zone after a bomb hit.

"Mia-a!" I call, and the garden suddenly goes quiet. I call her again. A giggle, and then she comes running in.

"Yes, Mommy?" she says, making her brown eyes go huge, playing the cute and innocent card.

"Did you forget something?" I ask. She shakes her head firmly.

"Nuh-uh. Don't think so, Mommy."

I gesture round the kitchen. She looks back at me, her brown eyes huge, so much like Tony's. All of our kids have his eyes, and his nose come to that. But Mia was the only one to inherit his sense of humor – something which worries me slightly.

"So, who's going to tidy up this mess?"

"Well…" she begins with a sly smile, but I cut her off mid-sentence."No way, missy. You can't go out to play until you've helped me tidy up in here."

She sighs, resigned. "Alright."

I hand her a cloth. "Good girl. You can wipe up the flour, and I'll load the dishwasher."

We work for about five minutes, listening to the faint sounds of Lilly gurgling in her pram in the corridor, and Lynette and Ben playing in the garden until Mia's little voice chirrups into the quiet.

"Mommy..."

"Yes?" I answer distractedly

"Mommy…" there is a pause, as if she is desperately trying to work something out

And then "Where did I come from"

I turn to look at her, her face screwed up in puzzlement, still holding the flour-covered dishcloth.

"You came from Mommy's tummy, sweetie," I answer simply.

"I know that!" she says impatiently, "But how are babies _made?'_Cause you can't just press a button and then a baby appears, that would be…" Her eyes suddenly grow wide, "Is _that_ how they're made?"

"No, Mia," I reply, resisting the urge to laugh at her unadulterated innocence. I squat down until my eyes are level with hers.

I wonder, for a moment, if it is too soon to tell her the truth, wonder if she's too young to hear it, but I brush it off. After all, I console myself, if she is old enough to be asking, then surely she's old enough to be hearing the answers.

"OK, Mia," I warn her, "This is a big girl thing I'm gonna tell you, so you have to be sensible about it."

She nods solemnly, and I take a breath before continuing.

"Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, and decide they want a baby…"

"They can't be a mommy and a daddy if they don't have a baby," Mia interrupts, "'Cause otherwise everyone would be a mommy or a daddy, even if they don't have kids, and then…"

"OK, OK," I say hastily, "Fine. When a man and a woman love each other very much and decide they want to have a baby, they have sex."

Deep breaths. Now we're getting into dangerous territory. You would think that after Secret Service and NCIS training, plus four kids; I would be prepared for anything.

"What's sex, Mommy?"

Think again. This question gets me every time.

"Well, when a man and a woman have sex, the sperm from the man…"

"What's sperm?"

I think for a moment.

"Like little tadpoles," I say at last.

"Like the ones in our pond?"

"Exactly," I continue, "The sperm meets with an egg, inside the mummy's tummy, and a baby is made."

She wrinkles up her nose.

"So I am an egg, _and_ a tadpole?"

"Sperm," I correct, "And not exactly. You're you, but you were made from an egg and a sperm."

She is quiet for a minute, turning the new information over in her head, and I turn back to wiping the table.

"So you and Daddy had sex four times?"

I blush slightly, her question catching me unawares.

"Mia!"

"What?"

"You can't…" I struggle to find the words

"But I'm right aren't I" she says with the worldly conviction of a six year old

"Young lady, that is absolutely none of your business". The color of my face is deepening rapidly.

Mia smirks, and then a look of dawning realization crosses her little face.

"Ohhhh" she says, as everything suddenly makes sense, "that's why men have wibbly wobbly bottoms!"

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! This is a repost of a story on my old account. Inspired by my sisters, Ellie (4) and Rosie (6) who are the most adorable sisters EVER and have an amusing habit of asking the most awkward questions in public :)**

**If you liked it please, please, _please_, with a Michael Weatherly on top, leave me a review. It's that little purple button down there :)**

**Lovee, Lilli xx**


	2. Half Of A Whole

"**Children have never been very good at listening** **to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them."**

**-James Arthur Bladwin**

Motherhood is a funny thing.

Maybe it's something to do with having three brothers, maybe it's because my childhood was spent trying to keep up with the boys, my adult life trying to make it in a man's world, but I've never really thought of myself as the domestic type.

True, I never considered it much; marriage, children, a nice four-bedroom suburban house. All these things that other little girls dream of, I never gave so much as a passing thought to.

And yet…look at me now. True, its taken nine years and Lynette and Tony had to suffer through several months of burnt food and singed clothing, but now it comes as easy as catching criminals.

With practiced ease, I drain the pasta and spoon it into the kids' bowls. It's been a peaceful three hours; Mia's cakes have been iced, she has delighted in telling Ben exactly how he came into existence, probably scarring the poor child for life, and now all three children are in the TV room watching a re-run of _Sesame Street_.

I place the bowls on the kitchen table and turn around, scooping Lilly up from her rocker on the kitchen table. Giggling, she reaches her hand out to touch my nose with her little fingers.

"Think that's funny do you?" I ask, kissing her on the cheek "Think that's funny?" I blow gently on her face, and she crinkles up her eyes with a giggle.

Lilly was an accident; the result of night of heated passion and a miscalculation of the calendar on my part. We had thought that four children would be too many – Tony was convinced that we'd be bankrupt by the time she was 3 months. And yet, somehow we managed. She's the perfect mix between me and Tony: light brown eyes, a tuft of brown hair, rosy baby cheeks, and the cutest laugh. We wouldn't be without her.

She burbles to herself, a stream of incoherent baby language.

"Mama" I say to her, encouraging her to talk, "can Lilly say 'Mama'"

She looks at me for a second, and squeals with delight.

"Mama?" I try again, "Where's Mama" Lilly ignores me, taking hold of her foot and stuffing it in her mouth.

I stick my tongue out at her, laughing.

I give up.

I figure Lilly will talk in her own time, just like the others.

I turn to see Tony's car pulling up in the driveway. Surprised, I check my watch. It's 5:30, I suppose, but Gibbs normally keeps the team late; some things really never change.

"Dada" I say to Lilly, who is still very focused on her toes. "Dada's home early!"

I call to the others in the living room "Daddy's home!" and I hear the pitter patter of feet running out of the room and up the corridor. The sound of a key in the door, the door opening and then a girlish shriek from my supposedly "macho" husband, as three children fling themselves at an unsuspecting Tony.

Laughing I walk into the corridor to see Lynette and Ben clinging to his legs, Mia holding on around his neck, chattering non-stop about her day.

"Hi," I say, leaning up to kiss him,

"Hey you," he says, as our lips touch, brushing against each other

"Daddy!" says Mia, indignantly poking Tony in the chest "Daddy! You weren't listening to me!"

"I was, sweetie" he assures her, lying through his teeth without even a blush

"No, you weren't," she says, "You were too busy kissing Mummy! And anyway…" she continues interminably, as Tony and I exchange glances over her head, "You'll never guess what I learnt today!"

I have such a bad feeling about this.

Without pausing to let him guess, she finishes triumphantly, "I know that you and Mummy had sex four times!"

There is a moment of silence, whilst Tony stares gob smacked at his daughter and I cringe in the corner. Mia looks around innocently.

"What?" she asks "That's what Mummy said." Tony looks over at me. My face is the color of an overripe beetroot. And then he starts to chuckle, laughing hysterically. Really, that man is more of a child than _any _of our kids.

"Mia," he says, winking at me over her head, as she stares at him, more than a little confused, "Mia, you really don't know the half of it"

I stare at him in outrage. There's _really _no need to encourage her - our five year old daughter does _not _need to know about our sex life! What is he doing?

"Will you tell me the whole then Daddy?" Mia asks sweetly. But before he can reply, I move up behind him and Gibbs-slap him on the back of the head.

"Daddy's just being silly," I tell Mia, as he looks at me in shock. "What?" I ask him

"You slapped me on the back of the head!" he complains, rubbing it with his free hand

"Well it's your fault for telling our _five-year-old_ daughter about our sex life" I tell him. "Besides," and I wink at him "do you really want her to know about that time on the autopsy table?"

**A/N: Thank you so much for sticking with me through the first chapter! Your reviews completely made my day, as did the Story Alerts and Favorites :) Please, please keep reviewing!**

**And for everyone who asked why I reposted it, well, it was really a feeling that it had sort of been lingering in the deep dark depths of for too long. It was entirely my fault, but by reposting it on a new account with (hopefully) more regular updates, I just think it gives it a whole new lease of life :)**

**Hopefully, that didn't sound too strange – probably made more sense in my head! :P**

**Oh, and unless otherwise stated, it's written from Kate's POV**

**Loveee**

**Lilli**

**Xx**


	3. Meant To Be

Evenings are always the calmest times in the DiNozzo household. The kids are bathed, in bed, and for once, quiet. Tony and I curl up together on the sofa, enjoying the blissful moments of peace. It's not often that we have a moment to ourselves, just to enjoy each other's company. Can you blame us? One of us is off chasing criminals; the other is juggling four children. No wonder life feels a little crazy.

"Life's crazy, huh?" says Tony with a grin.

You can always tell when it was meant to be when your husband voices your thoughts as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Yeah, I know", I sigh, snuggling into him "Just one _crazy_ thing after another"

There is silence for a few moments, as we both contemplate our own thoughts.

"Hey, Tony", I ask hesitantly, twisting my face to look at him, "Do you ever think how strange this all is?"

"Hmmm? You mean our kid asking about our sex life? 'Cause that _is _weird"

I punch him gently on the arm. "The less said about that, the better!" I pause for a second, "But, you know what I mean. Don't you ever wonder how we ended up here?"

"Yeah" he admits, "I do. But, " he shrugs "where would the fun be if we knew where our lives were going to turn out? It's the twists and turns that make life exciting. I'm a man who likes surprises, Katie"

"But, do you believe in fate? That some things were just…meant to be?" I don't know why I want to know. I just want some _confirmation_ that this is how things were meant to turn out. It's like I'm making sure that I didn't take a wrong turn on a road somewhere, and end up at the wrong destination.

"As in, _Adjustment Bureau_?" he asks

I give him a puzzled look

"You know, the freaky Matt Damon movie, kind of like _Eternal Sunshine _meets _Dark City_ with a _little _bit of _The Box_ thrown in for good measure…"

He's lost me already, so I smack him gently on the arm, for the second time in five minutes.

"You might as well be speaking gobbledegook," I tell him "I didn't understand a word of what you just said,"

"Awww come off it Kate," he says, genuinely looking bemused, "How can we possibly have been married for 10 years, and yet you've never seen _Dark City_"

"Huh," I say, sarcastically "Fancy that? Well, maybe I have other things to do with my life, rather than watching movies all day"

"Yeah, but Kate_, Dark City_ was a classic. You _must _have seen it. Rufus Sewell playing the title role of the troubled young hero…"

He catches sight of my face, "Anyway…I guess that wasn't what you were talking about"

I smile at him

"But don't you ever think that some things were just meant to be? That there was no way of stopping them?"

"You mean in an_ "all roads lead to Rome"_ sort of way?" he asks "Yeah, I do. I reckon that destiny or fate or whatever, it helps us to get to where we are today"

He looks down at me, nestled in his arms, and I feel my heart flutter like a lovesick teenager's.

"Like you and me," he says, smiling "And Lynette, and Mia and Ben and Lily We were meant to be a family. And no-one's ever going to take that away from us."

God, I love that man.

I lean up to kiss him on the lips.

"So, Agent Todd," he says, breaking away from our kiss "What exactly have you been telling our daughter? Corrupting innocent minds?"

"Oh, shut up _DiNozzo_" I tell him, "as if she wasn't corrupted enough by having you in the house"

"Excuse me," he says indignantly. He is _so_ cute when he's annoyed. "I have _never _corrupted anyone. I'm as pure as it gets without being the Virgin Mary"

I snort with laughter. The idea of Tony being remotely clean or pure is practically hysterical.

"Pur-lease," I say, rolling my eyes "You were born into this world with a dirty mind"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah", I say laughing, "Who else could turn the phrase "you suck!" into an innuendo?"

"Oh come on, Kate" he complains, "that was one time, and it was practically begging to be said"

"Yeah?" I challenge, "Well, what about the time you brought Gibbs a small coffee instead of a large, and he said," I switch into an imitation of Gibb's gruff voice_, "It's too small…what can I do with this?  
_You practically peed yourself laughing!" I say, switching back to my normal voice

He grins in defeat, but unwilling to let up, I continue, and with a wicked smile, finish with my _coup de grace,_

"And talking of dirty minds don't pretend like you've never imagined me in a Catholic school-girl outfit, because I _know _you have'"

"Fine, fine" he holds his hands up in mock defeat, "but you know you love me for it."

"Yeah" I admit, because he wouldn't be Tony without the innuendoes and euphemisms

"And you'd look damn sexy in a school-girl uniform" he adds "Short skirt, sexy stockings…"

"Anthony DiNozzo!" I gasp, mock berating him, "You are _unbelievable!"_

He laughs, and kisses me again.

"I love you Caitlin Todd," he says softly, "you know that right?"

"Of course I know that, silly" I say, "We were meant to be"

His soft lips are on mine, his hands are placed carefully and lightly on my waist, as if awaiting the right moment to move either up or down. My heart's racing…he must be able to feel it beating so furiously, our bodies are so close together. He pulls me even closer and the kiss becomes more passion-filled than before.

Slowly, he breaks apart, and smiles languorously

"I think we should take this upstairs, don't you" he suggested

And I could only agree

* * *

I am awoken the next day by sunlight peeking around the curtain, dancing across the walls of the bedroom, bathing it in a soft golden glow.

I open my eyes slowly, heavy with dreams of tangled limbs, twisted sheets and soft cries of release.

My head rests comfortably on his arm, and I almost subconsciously find my fingers stroking down his firm body. I can feel the heat from his body next to mine, and his heart beating against my chest.

My own heartbeat is back to normal, or as normal as it could ever be around him. It always beats a little faster than is strictly ordinary around Tony.

I press a kiss to his warm chest.

Right now, I would be perfectly content to stay here forever. Screw the rest of the world; we could stay here, in the early morning sunlight and our own little bubble of peace.

But, of course, life doesn't work like that, and will continue its relentless wheel, whether or not we want it to. And just as I am resigning myself to the day, I glance across at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

It reads 10:30am. Thursday 5th May.

_Shit._

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

All thoughts of a peaceful morning disappeared in an instant, and I roll over and shake Tony awake frantically.

"Tony!" I hiss in his ear "Tony! Get up! We're late!"

"WhatyoutalkingaboutKate?" he mumbles sleepily "Gobacktosleepdon'twannagetup"

"Tony!" I say, a threatening note in my voice, "unless you want Gibbs to commit murder today, I would get your ass out of bed!"

He rolls over to face me.

"What's the time?"

"Ten thirty" I say, throwing back the duvet and swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"_Shit! _Gibbs is going to _kill _me! Why didn't you wake me? Why didn't the kids wake us?"

He is already out of bed, and hopping around the bedroom, attempting to pull on a pair of trousers.

"As shocking as this may be, Tony" I say drily, searching for a decent top "The kids aren't our personal alarm clock. They probably just overslept as well"

"Yeah, but they…" He is struggling to pull a top over his head, and his words get lost as he disappears under the material.

"…and Lilly wakes us up at 6:00 like clockwork" he says, emerging through the top, his shirt completely twisted.

"So just be thankful she's sleeping through the night" I reply.

I cast an eye over my dishevelled husband, taking in his tousled hair, bleary eyes, and mismatching socks, and take pity on him.

"Look, come here, and let me sort you out"

I pull his top straight, neaten up his collar, and run my hands through his hair, trying to make it lie flat.

"Looking sharp," I lie, "Go get 'em Tony"

"Yeah," he replies darkly "I'll see you in hell"

I hear him running down the stairs, and then the sound of the front door slamming shut.

Predictably, the noise wakes Lilly up, and she begins a noisy and unrelenting cry that I know won't cease until she gets her morning feed.

I throw on a pair of jeans, and a pale pink top, the uniform of a busy mother.

(I learnt the hard way when Lynette threw up over a $200 top, that the days when I wore elegant skirts and expensive trouser suits are long gone)

I walk over to the cot, where poor Lilly is using her little lungs to such effect that her face has gone a bright shade of red.

"It's okay Lilly, Mommy's here" I say, picking her up, and patting her on the back. But her crying does not die down.

"Okay, okay, I get it." I say, somewhat grumpily. Being rejected by your 7 month daughter is not a good way to start the day. "You don't want love, you want food. Message received"

I sit down on the bed to feed her, and cradle her gently in my arms as she suckles, watching her mother with hazel eyes. I love the feel of a baby in my arms, the maternal feeling of watching over a little infant.

I'm going to miss it, when Lilly gets old enough to wean.

I put her back in her cot, after she's finished and go to wake up the others. I can't _quite_ believe that all three of them are still sleeping. But, you never know, miracles have happened.

I walk into the room that Lynette and Mia share, opening the door slowly.

"Time to wake up", I say gently "We've slept in late today, girls"

But as I switch on the light, my heart skips a beat. Both of their beds are empty, the covers pushed back untidily.

_Where have they gone?_

I quickly move into Ben's room next door.

When we moved house, just after Lilly was born, the extra space meant that as the only boy, Ben got the singular privilege of having a room all to himself, much to the resentment of his sisters.

_("Mommy, it's not fair! Why does Ben get his own room just because he's a boy? Boys are stinky, everyone knows that!")_

As I peek round the door the curtains are closed and the light is off, but his little bed is empty.

My heart starts racing, as a thousand different scenarios run through my mind, each one of them as irrational as the next.

You would think that being a federal agent for most of my working life meant that I reacted calmly to stressful situations.

But being a mother is different.

In that moment when you think that something has happened to your kids, your chest tightens, you can't breathe, the world stops. Any thought of reacting calmly goes out of the window.

I stand stock still in the middle of the room.

And then, _thank god, _I hear noises downstairs, the sound of little voices and spoons clanging against chinaware.

Downstairs, when I emerge round the door to the kitchen, Lilly now on my hip, complete silence greets me.

I take in the scene.

Three children staring at me, still dressed in pyjamas and wide-eyed like rabbits caught in the headlights. The tap is running, flooding the sink, and water is dripping onto the floor. A carton of orange juice is lying on its side, an orange stain spreading over the kitchen surfaces, and someone has spilt a box of _Lucky Charms_ all over the table.

Not to mention the entire carton of coffee that has been tipped out onto the floor.

The whole place looks like a war-zone.

I stare at them all, completely speechless.

They stare back, as silent as mice.

You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. Those kids know when they're in trouble.

"Just what is going on down here?" I ask ominously, when I have recovered myself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Her fault" Lynette and Ben say, pointing at Mia at the same time as Mia says

"His fault," pointing an accusing finger at Ben.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I look at them, giving them my practiced "Mommy evils"

Who knew interrogation techniques would come in handy for your own kids?

"Would someone care to explain to me _exactly _what is going on down here?"

No one replies. Ben's lip trembles slightly.

"Why didn't you wake us up?" I demanded "We're late for school, I'm rushing around like a man woman trying to get you ready, and I come down here to find you three already up and making a godawful mess?"

"Mia said…" Lynette begins, but stops abruptly with a glare from her younger sister.

I should have known Mia would be the ringleader here. Lynette might be older, but Mia is the confident, cheeky one who has her siblings wrapped around her little finger.

I fix Mia with a glare.

"What did Mia say, exactly" I enquire, dangerously

Mia pouts at me, and stays silent. I look at Lynne for an explanation

"She said that we shouldn't wake you up because then we'd have to go to school"

The confession pours out in a rush, and she continues "And then she said that we should make breakfast for you and Daddy when you woke up, so you wouldn't have to make it, and then we could all stay at home together."

I feel a sudden rush of warmth and affection for my children, despite the mess. At least it explains the coffee granules - for one terrifying moment, I thought they were caffeine addicts before the age of ten.

"Right," I let out a deep sigh "You kids have a lot to answer for,"

"We're sorry Mommy" Lynnette says forlornly

"Yeah, me sowwy too" Ben says, wrapping his little arms around my legs

"Me too," Mia echoes, "We only wanted to help you" she adds

"And miss school," I add drily, but somehow it's impossible to stay angry at them, and I give them a one armed hug, still attempting to balance Lilly on my hip.

"I know you meant well," I tell them, as my stern expression begins to falter, giving way to a smile playing on my lips.

"Alright, let's get this cleared up. You lot can go upstairs and get changed into school uniform"

"But Mommy" Mia pouts "Do we have to go into school today? I _really _don't want to."

"Young lady, you can either get upstairs right now, or…" I turn around in time to see Mia disappearing out of the door, which is just as well, because I had no idea how I was going to finish that threat.

I place Lilly in her rocker, and begin the long, slow process of cleaning up. I mop the floor, wipe the table, and sweep up coffee granules. By the time Ben, Mia and Lynette return downstairs, the room has returned to something resembling normality.

"Mommy?" Mia says, "I feel sick, and I have a cough, and my tummy hurts" she gives a feeble attempt at sounding ill.

"Where is this tummy ache?" I ask her, suspiciously

"Right here," she says, clutching the side of her head "It really hurts Mummy,"

I resist the urge to laugh at her.

"All right Mia, shoes on" I tell her, and she heaves a heavy sigh, and goes off in search of her school shoes, knowing the futility in arguing.

"Let's get this show on the road," I say, more to Lilly than to anyone else, as I pick her up, and carry her towards the car.

* * *

By the time we arrive at school, it is almost midday, and the sun is shining high in an almost cloudless blue sky.

All five of us make our way in through the school gates, in a funny little procession; me carrying Lilly on my hip, Ben holding tight onto my free hand, and Mia and Lynette holding hands in front.

I wonder how much longer they'll stay like that, before they're at each other's throats, arguing over make-up, clothes and boys, like most sisters.

Not for a long time, I hope, and I have a sudden urge to hug both of them, and tell them that they're not allowed to grow up. Not ever.

Mrs Grover, the school secretary, greets us with a smile when we enter the main school building. She is a portly woman, of about 45, with red cheeks that looked as if she'd applied a little too much rouge, and exaggerated eyebrows, that Mia had once informed me looked like _"two hairy caterpillars on her forehead"_.

But she was a kindly soul, and the kids loved her for a gentle sense of humour and never-ending patience.

"Bit late today, girls, aren't we," she says now, "Oh, and boy" she adds, noticing Ben holding onto my hand

"Yeah," I say, uncertain of how to explain the morning's events to her.

"Sleep in, did we?" she continues, saving me the trouble, "Shouldn't worry about it. Used to happen all the time with my little ones"

She is also inclined to talk for hours about her "little ones", and the "good old days" as she terms it, of when they were kids. And don't get her started on her "dear" of a husband.

She is, to term it delicately, very _effusive._

Or as Tony says, "That woman has an extreme case of verbal diarrhoea"

Yeah, he's not the diplomatic one in our relationship.

"…so just pop along to the classrooms," Mrs Grover is saying, and I tune back into the conversation "I'll let them know you're along"

I thank her with a smile, and chivvy my children down the corridor.

I drop Ben off first, in his brightly coloured classroom, with children's paintings plastering the walls. I apologize for being late, and he runs right into to join his table, and his friends.

Next is Lynette, in her more subdued classroom, with the kids' poetry adorning the walls, rather than bright paintings.

Last is Mia, who scampers into the classroom, as if she can't wait to get away.

Huh. Kids.

I am turning away, having apologized for the third time, to a teacher, when she catches me by the arm.

"Sorry, Mrs DiNozzo?"

"Yes?" I turn to look at her properly. She is a pretty young thing, who hardly looks old enough to be in control of a class of 6 year olds.

"I was wondering if we could have a little chat?"

Uh oh. Not good words.

"Can I ask why?"

"I've just…" she pauses to phrase it delicately "I'm becoming increasingly concerned about Mia's behaviour. It's nothing major, but I'd just like to talk it through with you sometime. Are you free this evening?"

I mentally whirr through my list of jobs, meetings and the kids' social calendars.

"I think I should be free," I say, cautiously, somewhat apprehensive about this meeting.

"Perfect!" she looks visibly relieved "I'll see you later then,"

"Sure," I say, plastering a smile on my face, but she has already turned back to the classroom, where a swordfight with pencils is ensuing.

And I am left to ponder what on earth Mia has done wrong this time.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the slow update - life has a nasty habit of getting in the way!**

**Any feedback is welcomed and please, please review 'cause it honestly makes my day :)**

**Oh, and I was wondering whether people wanted to see a Tony POV or if I should stick to Kate. Yes? No? Let me know!**

**Love y'all**

**Lilli **

**xx**


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